Day Trip

Leola was born in Ilwaco, Washington at the mouth of the Columbia River, just across from Astoria, Oregon. She grew up in Stevenson, Washington which is right on the Columbia River in the dramatic Columbia Gorge. For a time, her family lived on a houseboat on the river a little east of Stevenson. Her father was a fisherman. For those of you who have never been through the Columbia Gorge, it is a deep gorge through the Cascade Mountains carved out by the Columbia River which runs between Washington and Oregon. Obviously the geology is more complex than that, but you get the idea. She swam in the river as a child and across it as a teenager.

Since she seems to have forgotten most of her life after age 22 or so, she talks a lot about those years spent in and around Stevenson where she graduated from high school. Often when she says she wants to go home, Stevenson is where she means. So Jon had the idea to take her back there yesterday. Since I'm currently working on paintings inspired by the Gorge, to his delight, I decided to come along. Leola was so excited.

While the two of us were in the car waiting for Jon to lock up and join us, she said to me, "Of all the lady's who work here, I like you the best!" OK.

"I'm glad." I reply.

As Jon approached, she stated, "His mother and I were really good friends."

I said, "I guess so because you ARE his mother."

She laughs and then remembers, "Of course I am."

We decide to drive out the Oregon side by way of the Old Cascade Highway which begins in Troutdale. As we cross the Sandy River, Leola stuns us by saying, "There's a restaurant near here. We just ate there about a month ago. We sat by the window and looked at the river."

Our jaws drop. She's referring to Tad's Chicken and Dumplings, the restaurant we took her to on our way to Chris's birthday party. Not only does she remember eating there, she remembered the time frame, about a month ago. During the last 2 months, we haven't heard her recall anything like this. It must be the power of the river.

We stopped at Chanticleer Point, Crown Point (see photo) and briefly at Multnomah Falls (the biggest tourist attraction in the state) and crossed over into Washington over The Bridge of the Gods. She knew where she was and remembered everything about all of these places. All the memories were from her girlhood. She remembered learning to drive on the Old Cascade Highway, how her mother always had to stop at Crown Point and how she climbed to the top of Beacon Rock and "caught heck" for it.

Stevenson is at the Washington side of the bridge and we drove around the town looking for her the site of her old house. Jon and his brother had been to the house when they were kids after it belonged to another relative, so he remembered the general area. Leola did not remember and understandably so. We are talking 75-85 years ago. The town has changed. From Stevenson we drove east on SR 14 to the town of Carson and Cook. She said she went to school for a while in Cook when they lived on the houseboat, but there is nothing in Cook anymore. During all of this, she remembered some places, but mostly not. She went in and out of confusion.

We returned to Stevenson to eat lunch. She fixated on finding the place where they had the houseboat, a place called Sepsican. She has talked about this place repeatedly. It is not on any map and when Jon googled it, nothing came up.

"We should have gone a little further. We didn't go far enough. I'll just have to come back and find it on my own. I'll drive here and find it." she insisted.

To make a long story shorter, Jon and I decided to drive back east on SR 14, all the way to White Salmon and cross the bridge there. This way, we will have covered every mile on the river between Stevenson and White Salmon. If we didn't do it, we would never her the end of it... "if we had just around the next bend, we would have seen it." We never found Sepsican. It doesn't exist any more and there was no sign. She's still convinced we just "didn't go far enough."

The day began to unravel a little. It was 2:30pm and we had left home about 9:00am. Leola was tired, wound up and a little argumentative. During the ride back, she was unpacking Jon's camera bag which was on the seat next to her. Jon aksed her why she was unpacking his camera bag and she said, "This isn't your bag, It's my bag! I brought it from Coos Bay." An argument followed. I have to admit Jon and I didn't do anything to keep the situation from escalating - we were tired, too. It was the first time I heard her tone of voice get nasty. I know I don't want to hear it again.